


Summer Storm

by Kibu



Series: Mahariel [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Dalish Origin, Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-04-03 02:13:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4082755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kibu/pseuds/Kibu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A good way to drown out your fears is with your lover's voice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer Storm

They used every moment they had. Even in camp, when they were all trying to get just a small respite from the darkspawn that seemed to attack at every new bend in the road, at least Kieris and Alistair would train together to keep their skills sharp. Sometimes others from the ragtag band would join them, adding some variety to what would otherwise be monotonous sparring once the two Grey Wardens figured out the tricks in each others’ techniques. That day, both Zevran and Leliana had decided to participate, offering their unique insights – and no small amount of jovial commentary.

The day had been warm but clouds had persisted through most of the afternoon. As the sun began to sink toward the horizon, it was undeniable that a summer storm was brewing. The humidity that accompanied the darkening clouds rolled over the camp like a thick blanket, putting an abrupt and definite end to their practice session.

Breathing was like trying to inhale while underwater; just walking over to his tent left Kieris winded and feeling like he had just run several miles. The chainmail shirt he was wearing only added to the discomfort, its jingling weight draped over his chest and shoulders like a garment-shaped bear trap. It was a significantly different sort of balance than the leather armor Kieris was used to – Alistair had suggested trying it out to see if it would work for Kieris. Additional protection was always welcome, but Kieris was certain that the chainmail did not suit his style at all. It was not only heavy, but it felt like it restricted his quick, precise movements and did not let him go into the full dance of death that he was normally able to execute.

He reached his solitary tent as the first drops of rain began to fall. Wearing the chainmail was difficult; removing it, Kieris discovered quickly, was nearly impossible without help. Practice had ended so quickly that nobody had thought to instruct Kieris in the proper method for extricating himself from the unfamiliar armor. The metal links had no elasticity, effectively pinning his arms and shoulders in an unforgiving embrace when he tried to shuck the garment off over his head. It pinched his ears and caught at his hair, little yanks that hurt far more than they ought to.

The armor caught Kieris and held fast, half on and half off and clearly incapable of going fully one way or another. Blinded, frustrated, and mentally praying to every deity he could think of, Kieris huffed a breath into the metal confines. “Oh, fuck _me_ ,” he muttered, squirming awkwardly and trying to make himself smaller to still no avail.

“Quite an offer. A bit lacking in subtlety, but effective nonetheless.”

Kieris froze at the familiar voice, suddenly grateful that his face was completely obscured. At least it wasn’t Alistair – or worse, Morrigan.

“But we should at least get you out of that before engaging in any such activities, don’t you agree?” Zevran unhooked one of the straps that Kieris had forgotten to loosen, then held tight to the shoulders and provided an anchor while Kieris shimmied himself free.

The rain had begun falling in earnest during his captivity, but for the moment Kieris turned his face to the sky and reveled in the feeling of freedom. “Thank you, Zevran,” he said, offering the other elf a sheepish grin. “I think from now on I’m just going to stick with leather.”

“Leather is a good look for you,” Zevran said, the corner of his mouth curling wickedly. “Though this isn’t so bad,” he added, his eyes sweeping down over Kieris with unhidden interest.

Kieris wrinkled his nose. The borrowed gambeson he’d been wearing under the chainmail had already been sweat-damp from the warm-weather workout, and the increasingly heavy rain was quickly soaking through the quilted fabric. It was far from sexy as far as he was concerned.

“Does my saying such things bother you, Warden?” Zevran asked. Kieris found it oddly comforting how often Zevran checked his boundaries like that. The sheer amount of flirting they had indulged in since meeting each other could have been construed as a plausible sign that more and more risqué behavior was acceptable; it was endearing that Zevran at least seemed inclined not to push Kieris faster and farther than he was willing to go.

“Not at all,” Kieris said with a shake of his head. “Why don’t we get out of the rain and continue this conversation inside?” He pushed open the canvas flap that served as the entrance to his modest tent, gesturing for Zevran to follow him. Zevran did as he was bidden, trailing after Kieris. As soon as they were under cover, thunder growled in the distance.

Despite the warm air, a shiver ran through Kieris. He tried to cover it with the act of stripping off the sodden gambeson and draping it, dripping, over a camp stool; he knew, though, that Zevran hadn’t missed it. He was too perceptive, even while engaged in setting the jingling mass of chainmail in an unused corner of the tent.

“Are you chilled?” Zevran asked, arching an eyebrow. “Or did you suddenly realize that we are alone and you are halfway naked?”

“Neither,” Kieris admitted. It was with great reluctance that he continued, busying himself with wringing out his hair and tousling it in an attempt to get the worst of the drips out. “It’s the storm. I, er…” He set to lighting the bedside lamp and then brushed past Zevran to tie the tent door shut against the rain. “When I was very small, lightning struck a tree that was dangerously close to where I was taking shelter from a sudden downpour. Ever since then, I’ve had difficulties with thunderstorms. It’s not exactly something I’m proud of.”

“It is quite unexpected,” Zevran said, hooking an arm around Kieris’s waist and pulling him close as lightning flashed outside the heavy canvas walls. “Given the lifestyle of your people, I’m sure you have encountered many a storm out in the open like this.”

“And you would think that I would get used to it,” Kieris said, the distaste in his voice indicating that he was repeating something he had heard often.

“Fear does not listen to logic,” Zevran pointed out, nuzzling at the base of Kieris’s neck. “I must admit, though; I never thought someone as fearless as you would have a weakness to a trick of the weather.” He kissed the join of neck and shoulder, following an invisible line up to Kieris’s ear.

Kieris shivered for a wholly different reason than fear. “I thought we were talking,” he said, the accusal tapering into a gasp when Zevran’s teeth found his earlobe.

“Please, feel free to continue talking,” Zevran said, his smile audible. “But when you are half-dressed and pressed up against me… well, can you fault me for finding you completely irresistible?”

“Well, no,” Kieris said, but wrinkled his nose immediately after. “But I’m soaked and sweaty and I probably smell as bad as the dog. Possibly worse.”

Zevran pressed his face against Kieris’s shoulder and inhaled deeply. “I disagree; you simply smell like a man, to me. Though perhaps I am a bad judge of what is a good smell or a bad smell, given my background.”

“You are biased,” Kieris agreed, turning in Zevran’s arms so that they were chest to chest. “You are also suspiciously clothed. We should fix that.” His fingers caught the buckle of Zevran’s belt, nimbly releasing the catch.

Zevran made a small noise low in his throat, something between surprise and approval, when Kieris’s hands moved up to cup Zevran’s face and pull him into a kiss. Somehow, in between kisses, they managed between the two of them to fully divest Zevran of his armor and Kieris of the rest of his.

Surprisingly, or perhaps not so surprisingly, it was Zevran who stopped them, pulling back to arms’ length in order to let his eyes roam over Kieris’s bare skin. “A work of art, no?” he said after a moment, an easy smile on his lips. The smile faded and Zevran stepped close again, twirling a lock of Kieris’s dark hair around one of his long, dexterous fingers. “Are you certain of this, my Grey Warden?”

“My name is Kieris,” the Grey Warden in question said. “Right now, that’s all I want to be: just me.” He reached up to thread his fingers through Zevran’s. “And I am completely certain. I trust you.”

There was a flicker of something in Zevran’s eyes, an emotional reaction that was gone as quick as it had appeared. Kieris wasn’t even sure if it hadn’t been a trick of the lamp’s flame. However, he wasn’t given much time to think it over. Zevran moved quickly and with great surety, his hands moving over Kieris’s skin and leaving tingling trails in their wake. Kieris did his best to return the favor, but he felt slow and clumsy in comparison – while he had deft hands and willing enthusiasm, his experience was not nearly as wide and varied as his partner’s. 

Zevran did not seem to mind in the slightest. The noises he made were encouraging, his mouth an invitation all on its own. It was something else that Zevran knew how to put to good use, which he proved by suddenly kneeling in front of Kieris and lapping his tongue over the head of Kieris’s rapidly hardening cock. The delightful skill of Zevran’s mouth, combined with the complimenting pressure from his hand at the base of the shaft, dragged a breathy moan from Kieris that was nearly drowned out by the rain that drummed against the roof over their heads.

Kieris couldn’t tell if the roaring in his ears was his blood pounding or thunder, and for once in his life he had not a single stray thought to spare in fear of the storm that raged outside. He was far too interested in the storm that they were generating between the two of them, warm bodies that sizzled where they touched like they had been kissed by the lightning itself. His fingers tangled in Zevran’s hair, urging him further and yet also using the other elf as an anchor as his knees began to buckle.

To Kieris’s dismay, all too quickly Zevran pulled back and the sensations abruptly ceased. He looked up at Kieris and grinned. “Do not look so sad, my Kieris; the end is not coming so fast as this. A small change of location, however, may be a bit more comfortable for the both of us.”

Kieris had to agree, but even the short pause felt like an eternity. His body ached for more, and while he knew that Zevran would hold true to his promise, it was still a growing need that was wonderful and maddening all at once. They moved together to Kieris’s bedroll, Zevran pausing briefly to blow out the lamp Kieris had lit. The sudden dimness inside the tent was an unwelcome reminder of the storm outside, a flash of lightning all the more obvious without the light to dampen it. Before the adrenaline already surging through Kieris could divert to panic, Zevran was with him on the blankets and providing a welcome, if not necessary, distraction.

“There are far better things to do than dwell on some silly weather, no?” Zevran asked, a gentle but firm hand on Kieris’s chest pushing Kieris to lie back. Zevran leaned over him on his hands and knees, his smile just barely visible while Kieris’s eyes were still adjusting to the dim light. “Assuming, of course, that you have not changed your mind?”

“No, it hasn’t changed. There are very few things that would make me want to stop at this point,” Kieris assured him, tangling his fingers in Zevran’s hair and pulling him down into a burning, insistent kiss. His fingertips found and gently traced the outer edge of one pointed ear, eliciting a delightful shiver from Zevran. Kieris grinned, the expression putting a momentary end to the kissing.

“What?” Zevran asked with laughter in his voice. “Suddenly you are like the cat who has eaten the canary.”

“Close enough,” Kieris said, levering himself up on his elbows and pushing Zevran back as he did so. Zevran obligingly sat back on his heels, Kieris pursuing him on hands and knees. Rather than continuing until their positions were reversed and Zevran was on his back, Kieris leaned down and braced himself on his forearms. It was an incredibly vulnerable position, on his knees with his ass in the air and his face in Zevran’s crotch, but Kieris knew what he wanted. He took as much of Zevran’s cock into his mouth as he was physically capable, and was rewarded with a gasp that bordered on a purr from his partner. One of Zevran’s hands stroked Kieris’s hair before bunching into a fist, a small but sure sign that Kieris’s actions were appreciated.

Zevran’s other hand stroked down Kieris’s spine, sending zinging currents of electricity throughout his entire body. In his meanderings, Zevran found one of the small scars that marred Kieris’s otherwise smooth skin, tracing the coin-sized damage line for a curious moment. “Maybe later you will tell me how you managed to earn this,” Zevran murmured before the rest of his breath left him as a soft, pleased groan. 

“Mm?” Kieris asked, licking the underside of Zevran’s shaft, his tongue probing and tickling at the ridge of the head before pulling most of it back into his mouth. He looked up, meeting Zevran’s eye as if expecting him to continue speaking. He was rewarded with Zevran’s hand clenching tightly in his hair once again, the other raking fingernails down between his shoulder blades. Kieris could feel the shudder that ran through Zevran’s body and even made his cock twitch in Kieris’s mouth.

“Fascinating and dangerous, too,” Zevran finally said when air returned to him. He released Kieris’s hair, bending over him and reaching as far as he could to gently swat at Kieris’s beautifully presented ass. “Turn around. There is no reason why we can’t _both_ have a little fun.”

Kieris shifted as he was bidden, and with a little additional guidance from Zevran, they adjusted so that Zevran was lying on his back with Kieris on his hands and knees over him – only facing the opposite direction. Kieris returned his attentions to Zevran’s cock, sucking in a breath around it when Zevran’s mouth enveloped Kieris’s cock in return. Zevran’s muffled chuckle at Kieris’s reaction sent fire through his veins, a rush of heat that threatened to make his blood begin to boil at any moment.

Zevran kneaded at the flesh of Kieris’s ass, taking Kieris’s cock deep into his mouth until his nose was buried against Kieris’s balls. The moans that came from Kieris, both the sounds themselves and the humming vibrations that buzzed around his cock, told Zevran that his actions were not unappreciated. While Kieris applied himself enthusiastically, Zevran removed one hand from Kieris’s ass in order to palm a small vial of oil that he had removed from his belt pouch during their heated scramble to undress. He popped the cork, dipped each of his first two fingers into the substance, and quickly resealed it. He kept the container close by, but for the moment returned his attention back to his partner.

The oil warmed quickly to Zevran’s body heat, a pleasant effect that Zevran and several of previous partners had found immensely enjoyable. Zevran drew one slicked finger lightly between Kieris’s cheeks, probing at the pucker of muscle there and coating it with the warm substance as he did so. Kieris gasped, releasing Zevran’s cock in his surprise.

“Zevran?” Kieris asked breathlessly, unable to bend enough to get a look at his partner’s face and so settling for kissing the base of his shaft.

“I have not gone anywhere,” was Zevran’s impish reply as he continued his explorations. “Are you still all right? Would you prefer that I stop?”

“Don’t you dare stop,” Kieris threatened, despite being in such an compromising and unintimidating position.

Zevran laughed. “Of course not, my Kieris. I would not dream of it.” He pushed past the muscle, sliding his finger in up to the second knuckle. He focused intently on his partner, trying not to let Kieris’s return to sucking his cock be too much of an overwhelming distraction. As Zevran moved his finger in and out, he listened to the delicious little sounds that escaped Kieris’s lips.

A moment later, Zevran withdrew his finger entirely. The action drew a plaintive noise from Kieris that shot straight to the root of Zevran’s cock. He eased his first two fingers into Kieris and was rewarded with a shuddering moan. “You make such wonderful noises,” Zevran said. The comment earned him the rough, yet carefully controlled sensation of Kieris’s teeth being dragged over the delicate skin of Zevran’s cock, which was meant as a warning but only served as additional encouragement for the assassin.

“I would like to make you make all kinds of lovely sounds,” Zevran said, flicking out his tongue to tickle the inside of Kieris’s thigh. “You still have not changed your mind?” He grinned at the way Kieris’s voice dropped to a low growl, not too unlike his faithful mabari. For Kieris, Zevran’s continuous consent checks had quickly dropped out of the range of ‘comforting’ and ‘endearing’ and landed in the realm of ‘maddening’. While that had not been Zevran’s actual intent, it was an entertaining side-effect nonetheless. “All right, all right; I will not ask again. Though you do realize that if we are to do this, you will need to stop what you are doing, yes?”

Kieris paused, turning the words over in his head before sighing heavily and reluctantly releasing Zevran’s cock from the hot confines of his mouth. “I suppose that’s an acceptable compromise,” he said, levering himself off of Zevran and letting him roll aside. Kieris moved to face Zevran but stayed kneeling, watching with heavy-lidded interest as Zevran sat up.

“Did you have something specific in mind?” Kieris asked, the lingering feeling of naivety lurking at the edges of his thoughts. He tried to shut it out by reminding himself that even with experience, communication was still vital with a partner – especially a new one.

“Would you call me sentimental if I said I would like to be able to see your face?” Zevran asked, a slight hesitance in his voice that made Kieris’s heart skip a beat.

“Is being sentimental a bad thing?” Kieris asked by way of reply, taking advantage of Zevran’s close proximity to playfully nip at his earlobe. 

“I suppose that depends,” Zevran said. He paused momentarily to capture Kieris’s mouth in a kiss that sizzled down Kieris’s spine. “But that may be a discussion for a later time. For now, I think we would both prefer to skip to the part where I am inside you, yes?”

“Yes,” Kieris agreed immediately. He grabbed his spare blanket and rolled it up into a makeshift cushion, to Zevran’s obvious approval. Kieris laid back and shoved the blanket under his hips to prop them up at a better angle.

Zevran had preparations of his own to make. He patted the bed around him until he found the vial of oil, rescuing it from the already-rumpled blankets. While Kieris settled himself, Zevran poured a liberal amount of the oil into his palm and slicked it over his cock.

“Are you nervous?” Zevran asked, sharp eyes noticing the way Kieris already gripped the blankets.

“Not in a bad way,” Kieris said, giving his head a little shake against the pillow. “Like I said before, Zev; I trust you.”

Zevran knelt between Kieris’s legs, leaning down to brush a kiss against his bent knee. He shifted so that the tip of his cock touched against Kieris’s hole, easing in with gentle pressure. Zevran grinned at Kieris’s gasp and the way he quickly covered his mouth to stifle it. It was an exercise in patience for Zevran to go slowly, especially with the way Kieris’s body urged him on as he pressed in deeper. Zevran grasped Kieris’s hips, using the leverage to pull back and thrust shallowly back into him.

Kieris bit down on the fleshy part of his thumb, muffling the whimpering noise that Zevran’s actions elicited. Zevran sank back into Kieris, burying himself up to the hilt while Kieris’s muscles squeezed and pulled and begged for more. Zevran feathered his thumb over Kieris’s hipbone, a light touch that sent a shiver rippling through Kieris’s whole body.

“Don’t do that,” Zevran said, eyes half-lidded but unwavering from Kieris’s face. “I enjoy the sound of your voice.”

Kieris removed his hand from his mouth, managing a shaky smile. “I don’t sound very cool during sex. I just sort of sound pathetic,” he said, his embarrassment manifesting in a blush that even turned his ears red. It was impressive that he had enough blood in his system to manage a blush, given how much was already devoted to his extremely erect cock.

“Not at all,” Zevran replied, driving his words home with another shallow thrust. Kieris bit his lip against another keening noise. “It is the sound of a man who is enjoying himself, and it tells me that what I am doing is giving you pleasure. The sounds you make are not shameful; they are honest and joyful.”

Kieris was left speechless, but he dropped his hand to his side and twisted his fingers into the blankets. Zevran rocked into him again and Kieris gasped, hips bucking up to meet him. Rather than easing off again, Zevran kept moving, building up a gradual rhythm between them. Kieris arched his back into it, his cock hitting against his belly in a counterpoint to the way Zevran’s balls slapped his ass.

Between the staccato smack of flesh on flesh, Kieris’s breathy moans, and Zevran’s sultry groans occasionally mixed with a few murmured words of encouragement, it was a good thing that the storm still rumbled around them in its full glory. While it was likely no secret that Zevran and Kieris had retired together to Kieris’s tent, sharing the intimate details of their first time together was not high on Kieris’s list of enjoyable things. 

High on that list was Zevran, whose fingers dug into Kieris’s hips as he upped the tempo, his cock plunging deep again and again and striking against the spot that made Kieris see stars. Kieris yelped, his toes curling and his breath splintering into ragged gasps.

Zevran breathed a laugh, finding that spot once more and making Kieris claw at the blankets like a man possessed. Zevran lifted one of Kieris’s legs and braced it against his shoulder to give himself a better angle. Kieris’s gasps quickly devolved into begging, half-formed words that ran together into incoherent pleading. Thankfully, it was a language that Zevran understood.

Zevran wrapped one strong, experienced hand around Kieris’s cock and gave it a squeezing, twisting pull that made every muscle in Kieris’s body tense and dragged a shout from his lips. He bucked helplessly against Zevran, a squirming, writhing, wanton creature of pleasure and need that gripped Zevran’s cock almost painfully hard in the best possible way.

The only warning Zevran got was a barely-articulated “Zev-!” before he came with a wordless cry, his climax dripping hot and sticky over Zevran’s hand. Kieris’s back arched so hard that his shoulders left contact with the bed. Zevran’s voice joined Kieris’s a moment later, the force of Kieris’s orgasm grabbing him and dragging him over the edge alongside.

It left both of them panting for air, Kieris in a boneless pile on the blankets and Zevran slumped over him. They stayed like that for what felt like ages but was surely only a few minutes, listening to their ragged breathing, the rain still pelting down on the roof, and the low growl of continuing thunder. Kieris noticed the thunder with a distant, sleepy disinterest that he would marvel at later.

Kieris could feel Zevran’s heart racing as fast as his own, a fact that was strangely comforting. Also strangely comforting was how Zevran was still inside him, warm and seeming to pulse along with every heartbeat. With a great effort and a brief grimace of pain, Kieris forced his hands out of their death grip on the bed in order to run the tips of his fingers through Zevran’s damp hair. His throat felt raw, dry and scratchy as he swallowed repeatedly to make it so he felt like he could manage words again.

“That was--“ Kieris began, and at the same time that Zevran tried to speak.

“You were – oh, you go ahead.” Zevran shifted so that Kieris’s fingers touched his face, tracing the lines of his tattoo.

“That was incredible,” Kieris finished as he followed the dark trails down to Zevran’s chin and then tapped his fingers against Zevran’s lips. Zevran kissed Kieris’s fingers, spent but still just as playful as ever. “Why did we wait so long to do that?”

“It was simply never a good time,” Zevran said with an implied shrug, though his shoulders didn’t move. “You must admit that things have not exactly been calm or peaceful since our fateful first meeting.”

“I guess you’re right.” Kieris sighed, deeply contented. “As much as I’m finding that I enjoy having you in me, why don’t you come up here so I can kiss you?”

“I would love to, but I don’t think you would appreciate the mess,” Zevran pointed out.

Kieris reached blindly up onto the crate beside his bedroll where the lamp rested, groping for and finding the handkerchief he kept there. He handed it to Zevran, who wiped his hands and did a sketchy mop-up before tossing the linen square aside and lying down beside Kieris.

Zevran slid his arm around Kieris, cuddling him close and stroking his shoulder idly. His fingers found the twin of the scar on Kieris’s back – an entry wound to match the exit wound he’d noticed earlier. “How did you manage to get this?” Zevran asked, languidly running his index finger over the recessed line.

“Tamlen wasn’t a very good shot when we were kids,” Kieris said, smiling at the memory.

“Your friend shot you?” Zevran asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

“Not on purpose,” Kieris explained. “We borrowed his mother’s spare bow without her permission and went out into the woods to practice where we wouldn’t be caught. One thing led to another and I ended up pinned to a tree for about two hours. It took us that long to work up the courage to break the arrow.” Kieris felt Zevran’s chuckle as a pleasant buzzing in his chest. “We knew if one of the arrows was missing, his mother would know we had taken the bow out without permission. I mean, I also had an obvious arrow wound through my shoulder, but we were kids and our priorities weren’t exactly logical.”

Kieris breathed a laugh, curling against Zevran and resting his head on Zevran’s shoulder. “Tamlen’s mom and the Keeper gave us a lecture that still makes my ears ring when I think about it.”

“It sounds like you have always had a knack for getting into trouble, my Ris,” Zevran said. He kissed Kieris’s forehead, fumbling for the blanket Kieris had used as a prop and managing to one-armed fling it open over the both of them. The air was warm, but they were sweat-damp with exertion and the covering was appreciated.

“Hmm,” Kieris said, snaking an arm over Zevran’s chest. “Maybe we can have another go tomorrow,” he suggested.

Zevran laughed and cuddled him closer. “I like the way you think.”


End file.
